Having been really frustrated the other night over having to finish a 10 page essay that I only had a few paragraphs done I got a little rough with my light switch. The light switch I have in my room is the dimming kind where you push in the knob to turn it on and off. I pushed it and fell back onto the bed so I could start working on my essay. The light didn't go on (meaning i had to get back up off my bed that is on the floor.) I used to be able to turn off the light with my foot but since I couldn't reach it I shot up and with the heel of my hand slammed my fist into the switch. Not only did I break the switch plate but I burned out the light. I held off on screaming and pulling out my hair so I could call mom and ask her to bring me some regular light bulbs. The new spirally save you a million dollars a year light bulbs don't work with my light fixture.
I informed mom when she handed me the light bulbs that I would need a new switch plate and she told me I needed to got to Home Depot. For those of you who don't know what Home Depot is it's a hardware store chain. There was only one small problem, like my grandmother once we go in we don't want to come out.
I drove to the Home Depot that was nearest to my house after classes and pulled my self out of the car. I had done something to my legs to make them really sore and achy for some reason and I had made the mistake of wearing my clogs that added two inches to my height and hurt when I had to walk long distances. I had managed to park relatively close to the main entrance.
When I entered the store I was greeted by the sight of plastic Christmas trees that had the lights already attached. Like a moth to the flame I walked straight towards the sparkling wonders. I stood there looking at the snow globes displayed underneath the trees, my childhood fascination with snow globes returning once again. I snapped out of my daze by my realization I was having a conversation with myself under my breath.
I moved on looking for switch plates and I ended up walking to the opposite end of the store and back on my hunt. When I found what I was looking for I took my time figuring exactly which one I wanted. I ended up picking the unbreakable nylon switch plate and laugh chuckled at the irony.
As I was heading to the checkout counter I saw the shovels. I rushed over to them and started to look them over as I talked to myself. There is this running joke between mom and I about shovels. When I was twelve and had a bigger room upstairs I was given the task of cleaning my room. Annoyed by this after about an hour I grabbed the snow shovel after I swept everything into a pile in the center of the room and I started to shovel everything into a banana box. Mom thought this was funny and the Cleaning Shovel was born.
Our orange shovel was on it's last legs and mom didn't like the blue curvy shovel so I decided to buy a new one. Then I saw the windshield wiper fluid with antifreeze. Seeing as how it's getting close to winter I grabbed a bottle. So I ended up buying a shovel and antifreeze in addition to a switch plate. I have way to much fun in Home Depot.
Also I have concluded I must marry a lumber jack or a carpenter because I love the smell of lumber.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
I Need To Know
I started to re watch Disney's latest princess movie, The Princess and The Frog just so I could have some background noise while I hand colored a picture with colored pencils. I pretty much ignored most of the movie looking up only when something interesting was said on screen. I paid full attention when my favorite character Mama Odie entered the movie.
If you don't know Mama Odie is a blind one hundred ninety seven year old bind who lives Lives in a mofo boat in a tree on the bayou. I tell you if the trees in my grandma's back yard had been strong enough to support a freaking boat shaped tree house I would have plead for one.. Heck if I had a back yard now I would want one now even though I am nineteen.
Mama Odie is a strange person and this can be conributed to the fact that she is 197 and doesn't give a rats ass what you think of her. But one thing bugged me while watching the movie. Mama Odie is making Gumbo in a bathtub. As awesome as this concept is I can't help but wonder.... How is the Gumbo staying in the bathtub?
As you are aware, bath tubs have drains. I am pretty sure that a rubber stopper would melt or die or something alone those lines if it was put directly over flames. Did Mama Odie have secret wielding skills and weld a piece of metal to the drain? (That would explain why she is blind. ) Did she use magic to close up the hole? What? TELL ME DISNEY! SCREW SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF I NEED TO KNOW!!!
If you don't know Mama Odie is a blind one hundred ninety seven year old bind who lives Lives in a mofo boat in a tree on the bayou. I tell you if the trees in my grandma's back yard had been strong enough to support a freaking boat shaped tree house I would have plead for one.. Heck if I had a back yard now I would want one now even though I am nineteen.
Mama Odie is a strange person and this can be conributed to the fact that she is 197 and doesn't give a rats ass what you think of her. But one thing bugged me while watching the movie. Mama Odie is making Gumbo in a bathtub. As awesome as this concept is I can't help but wonder.... How is the Gumbo staying in the bathtub?
As you are aware, bath tubs have drains. I am pretty sure that a rubber stopper would melt or die or something alone those lines if it was put directly over flames. Did Mama Odie have secret wielding skills and weld a piece of metal to the drain? (That would explain why she is blind. ) Did she use magic to close up the hole? What? TELL ME DISNEY! SCREW SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF I NEED TO KNOW!!!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
College Is Like A Jungle...
It is time once again to select new classes for the next semester and of course that means hundreds of students trying to find classes. It's a hunt and you have to be a ninja to get the classes you want. I have already picked out the classes I want and now i wait for the Add/Drop period to open so I can be all set for this spring.
In high school you wrote down what electives you wanted to take and got put on a list in alphabetical order by grade level. Seniors got 1st pick, juniors got 2nd ETC. ETC.
One class I refuse to take ever again is chorus. When I was younger it was mandatory for all the grades to perform a few songs once a year. I loved it when I was little, especially that one time we had a Sound of Music theme and I got a solo. What amuses me was that I could have been Gretl the youngest of the Von Trapps. Instead I was a puppeteer and I got to sing. "One little girl in a pale pink coat hear. *yodeling* She yodeled back to the lonely ghost heard." I was so proud then.
I moved onto St. Patrick's catholic school (which is now condos BWA HA HA) and tried Chrous my first year and sort of fell out of if. That was until I started going to Loranger Middle School in Old Orchard Beach. I was an Alto at first then I got switched into the Sopranos. It was the first time I stayed with chorus for more than one year. I stayed in chorus for six and a half school years.
Dani and I both got out of Chrous because, well... Stupid Freshmen are Stupid. My junior years was great because I was in the class that met ever other day and had very few underclassmen. We knew the drill and got straight to the point.
Chrous as a senior made me want to pull out my hair. Not only was my teacher pregnant, making her evil, their was only one class. The freshmen would not shut up and kept breaking the two major rules.
1) No cellphones.
2) No gum
I GTHFO of there after one semester. The bad semester wasn't really the only reason for me opting out. I was kinda annoyed that the same group of kids kept getting the solos. I know that I don't have the best voice but I'm no slouch either. Maybe it's cause I am a loud person and thus a loud singer or maybe the teacher just played favorites. I hadn't gotten a solo since sophomore year and I was bummed.
It got to the point when I didn't even care if my parents came to see me sing. Dad had to drive for three hours just to see an hour and a half of band and chorus. I didn't see the worth in making my parents come if I didn't stand out. I am tall so I was always thrust into the back of the bleachers behind everyone else. It just wasn't worth it anymore.
My current schedule is as follows
This is what I want for next semester
Hmm what an awful lot of English. Now I must wait until 8 am... or midnight I'm not sure yet
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Sleeping on the floor... It's like camping only without being cold and bitten by bugs.
I was growing tired of sleeping in a bed that had a dip in the middle on one side and the fact the bed frame punched a hole in my wall and rubbed away the paint on one side of the wall. Mom and I decided that it would be best to put my box spring and mattress on the floor for the time being. I started to clean my room in preparation.
Cleaning is not something I willingly do very often and when I do I either clean my room, the 1st floor bathroom, or the kitchen as they are all about the same size. Cleaning puts me in a very odd mental state, I become like a feral animal, a trait mom and I share.
I could never live in a time when women were expected to clean, because the depression I was born with would have manifested in a worse way than it did. I might have killed someone.
Cleaning frustrates me and what makes matters worse is the knowledge that if I stop I will lose my momentum and give up. This is another reason I don't like people over, it means a scrub down of the lower floor.
Another problem I seem to face when cleaning is the realization of how much stuff I actually have and the lack of any inkling of where to put it all. Though I must say that I was really happy when I found the design for Eric's hair, (Eric being a character in one of my future novels. He has morphing hair, meaning I can never remember how to draw it.) Then I found several books. I started to pile things on my bed and Georgette stared at me from her spot among the blankets.
I took a break when mom got home to get her dates Mr. Whoopie Pie and Doritos. I ran into my English teacher and being in a strange mental state I might have been a bit confused about why he asked me if I was working. ( I didn't realize that I looked somewhat dressed up... Did I ever mention I go to the store in my nightgown often? Don't worry I cover it with a black skirt and sweatshirt. )
I got what I needed to get and went home muttering to myself about something random. Mom and I started at the mess that is my room and felt a sense of dread at moving my bed.
We flipped the bed on it's side and stared at the layer of junk on the floor.
"Mom, where's the shovel?"
"In the cellar."
The one I have to go outside to get to or the one that I can get to from the nameless room?"
"Outside" Laughing at my pain.
I was around this point I noticed that the dogs were wandering among the trash and I might have been better off doing this on my own. That thought was squashed by my next thought of "Like I would turn down free help."
Mom left me to pick through the pile for anything I wanted to keep. After about ten minutes I resolved that if it had been under my bed for X amount of time then I really wouldn't miss it so I we started to scoop things into the trash bag. We flipped the box spring so that the dip was aimed at the wall and flipped the mattress on top.
I am now hunting down a new bed and platform that won't punch holes in my wall and make me pull out my hair in anger.
Be sure to read about my worst day ever also posted today ^^
Cleaning is not something I willingly do very often and when I do I either clean my room, the 1st floor bathroom, or the kitchen as they are all about the same size. Cleaning puts me in a very odd mental state, I become like a feral animal, a trait mom and I share.
I could never live in a time when women were expected to clean, because the depression I was born with would have manifested in a worse way than it did. I might have killed someone.
Cleaning frustrates me and what makes matters worse is the knowledge that if I stop I will lose my momentum and give up. This is another reason I don't like people over, it means a scrub down of the lower floor.
Another problem I seem to face when cleaning is the realization of how much stuff I actually have and the lack of any inkling of where to put it all. Though I must say that I was really happy when I found the design for Eric's hair, (Eric being a character in one of my future novels. He has morphing hair, meaning I can never remember how to draw it.) Then I found several books. I started to pile things on my bed and Georgette stared at me from her spot among the blankets.
I took a break when mom got home to get her dates Mr. Whoopie Pie and Doritos. I ran into my English teacher and being in a strange mental state I might have been a bit confused about why he asked me if I was working. ( I didn't realize that I looked somewhat dressed up... Did I ever mention I go to the store in my nightgown often? Don't worry I cover it with a black skirt and sweatshirt. )
I got what I needed to get and went home muttering to myself about something random. Mom and I started at the mess that is my room and felt a sense of dread at moving my bed.
We flipped the bed on it's side and stared at the layer of junk on the floor.
"Mom, where's the shovel?"
"In the cellar."
The one I have to go outside to get to or the one that I can get to from the nameless room?"
"Outside" Laughing at my pain.
I was around this point I noticed that the dogs were wandering among the trash and I might have been better off doing this on my own. That thought was squashed by my next thought of "Like I would turn down free help."
Mom left me to pick through the pile for anything I wanted to keep. After about ten minutes I resolved that if it had been under my bed for X amount of time then I really wouldn't miss it so I we started to scoop things into the trash bag. We flipped the box spring so that the dip was aimed at the wall and flipped the mattress on top.
I am now hunting down a new bed and platform that won't punch holes in my wall and make me pull out my hair in anger.
Be sure to read about my worst day ever also posted today ^^
WORST. DAY. EVER
Last Sunday was the worst day I have experienced so far. It all started when my charger decided to kick the bucket and I had no power for my laptop. I was OK with that, I mean I could just go to the Apple store after classes on Monday and get it checked out. I tried to use mom's laptop but couldn't figure out how to switch between wireless signals so I just played solitaire.
Then the rain came. My bedroom ceiling started to leak all over my bed and I got an eyeful of ceiling water. Since mom and I had ditched the metal frame I could easily move my bed so that the water wouldn't dampen my face. I managed to move it but I stepped on a corner of the box spring that was coming off and punctured one of my little toes on my left foot. I of course started to cry and bitch about my life to poor Georgette.
I got the bed settled and punched off the light to go to sleep with a constant dripping going off by my head. The sound was maddening so I grabbed my pillows and blankets then herded my dog into the living room. I laid down a blanket on the couch and piled my pillows. I turned off the lights and tried to go to sleep. I have been forced to sleep on the couch many times before and I hate it. The couch is not big enough for me and a dog to sleep on and all of the dogs like company when napping.
As I lay in the dark I was treated to the sound of howling wind and the house settling. I turned the light back on and started to play solitaire again when the power went off. I closed the lid on mom's laptop, since I didn't know how long the black out would last, and sat in the pitch black. I started to feel my deep set fear of strange noises in the dark start to act up.
The lights went back on and I got up and went into the kitchen to get my emo diary. The emo diary is a notebook I write in when I am feeling strong negative emotions that I want to share with mom but can't vocalize it because I am in coherent. I started to write my about my anger and sadness about my woes. It was mostly just a rant. I played solitaire until the dripping had longer gaps in between and charged my iPod on mom's laptop. Then I gathered my bed supplies and went back to bed.
I am a firm believer in karma. When ever something bad happens something equally good is on it's way. Let's just say that my Monday was a lot better than Sunday was.
Be sure to read the blog about my new bed situation also posted today ^^
Then the rain came. My bedroom ceiling started to leak all over my bed and I got an eyeful of ceiling water. Since mom and I had ditched the metal frame I could easily move my bed so that the water wouldn't dampen my face. I managed to move it but I stepped on a corner of the box spring that was coming off and punctured one of my little toes on my left foot. I of course started to cry and bitch about my life to poor Georgette.
I got the bed settled and punched off the light to go to sleep with a constant dripping going off by my head. The sound was maddening so I grabbed my pillows and blankets then herded my dog into the living room. I laid down a blanket on the couch and piled my pillows. I turned off the lights and tried to go to sleep. I have been forced to sleep on the couch many times before and I hate it. The couch is not big enough for me and a dog to sleep on and all of the dogs like company when napping.
As I lay in the dark I was treated to the sound of howling wind and the house settling. I turned the light back on and started to play solitaire again when the power went off. I closed the lid on mom's laptop, since I didn't know how long the black out would last, and sat in the pitch black. I started to feel my deep set fear of strange noises in the dark start to act up.
The lights went back on and I got up and went into the kitchen to get my emo diary. The emo diary is a notebook I write in when I am feeling strong negative emotions that I want to share with mom but can't vocalize it because I am in coherent. I started to write my about my anger and sadness about my woes. It was mostly just a rant. I played solitaire until the dripping had longer gaps in between and charged my iPod on mom's laptop. Then I gathered my bed supplies and went back to bed.
I am a firm believer in karma. When ever something bad happens something equally good is on it's way. Let's just say that my Monday was a lot better than Sunday was.
Be sure to read the blog about my new bed situation also posted today ^^
Monday, November 1, 2010
College Math
Since DD is being a bone head I will be posting the comic pages here until DD works. enjoy ^^
I sit in the front row of my math class and draw in the notebook I originally bought to take history notes with until I relized that I could take notes with my laptop. I have always been the type of person who can derive entertainment from simple doodles or writing. In fact teachers few teachers can keep my full attention during class. I have even gotten in detention in middle school for drawing during vocab chicken.
Part of me feels that ADHD is a made up disorder, this is what happens when you get medicated for two years and you fall into a deep dark depression at the age of ten due to said medication, but I will joke that "I have ADD real bad today."
I was focusing in class the other day and we were learning about something involving numbers (Yeah that really narrows it down doesn't it)and my teacher stopped talking. I looked up at him and watched as he blinked at the broad for about five minutes just blinking. His silence was ended by him proclaiming "And now I am lost."
This of course was the funniest thing I have ever heard.
I have a problem
A word of warning, this is a rant. I am currently tired and frustrated and just need to vent. I will try to make this post somewhat intelligent but I can't make any promises. Now that we got that out of the way...
I don't deal with change well... well changes that have to do with the websites I frequent. It mostly has to do with the navigation features, I like to know how to get to the page I want with out hunting it down. When the website starts messing with these functions I get a bit... angry.
Normally I keep quiet about my frustration, and bet over it after I get used to the new layout, but this new DrunkDuck make over has me more than a little angry. Maybe it's just road rage carried over and maybe the fact that my over active imagination hasn't been letting me sleep more than a few hours these last few nights isn't helping, but I don't like the fact that this shift is making the major source of my entertainment going haywire. I NEED MY DOSE OF VAMPIRATES AND TELEPATHIC SIX YEAR OLDS!!!
I have to give DD credit for giving me a long span of time to adjust to this so my anger is less death glare oriented and more "THIS IS GOING ON MY BLOG! FEEL MY OUTRAGE BWA HA HA HA HA!"
I'll give it a chance, and I'll feel better once my mind stops seeing monsters about to jump out of the dark living room and eat me late at night... Now to chug a bottle of Diet Pepsi and try to focus in class...
~EDIT~
DD looks pretty awesome... now if only you could actually read comics
I don't deal with change well... well changes that have to do with the websites I frequent. It mostly has to do with the navigation features, I like to know how to get to the page I want with out hunting it down. When the website starts messing with these functions I get a bit... angry.
Normally I keep quiet about my frustration, and bet over it after I get used to the new layout, but this new DrunkDuck make over has me more than a little angry. Maybe it's just road rage carried over and maybe the fact that my over active imagination hasn't been letting me sleep more than a few hours these last few nights isn't helping, but I don't like the fact that this shift is making the major source of my entertainment going haywire. I NEED MY DOSE OF VAMPIRATES AND TELEPATHIC SIX YEAR OLDS!!!
I have to give DD credit for giving me a long span of time to adjust to this so my anger is less death glare oriented and more "THIS IS GOING ON MY BLOG! FEEL MY OUTRAGE BWA HA HA HA HA!"
I'll give it a chance, and I'll feel better once my mind stops seeing monsters about to jump out of the dark living room and eat me late at night... Now to chug a bottle of Diet Pepsi and try to focus in class...
~EDIT~
DD looks pretty awesome... now if only you could actually read comics
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